The Telling (12 page)

Michael broke the kiss, hissing, “Jay!” then smothered his cries against Jay’s chest.

“That’s it, Michael,” Jay crooned. “Show me how good I’m making you feel. Come for me.”

Michael lost control, filling Jay’s hand in rhythmic pulses. Being pressed to a muscular body was the only thing that kept him from falling to
the floor. He clung to Jay, gasping for breath and coming down from the best orgasm of his life.

“Was that good for you, Michael?”

Michael lazily opened one eye to find Jay smiling down at him with the same look his dream lover often wore, but Jay held him now, patiently waiting for an
answer, not some mystery man. Lost in the afterglow, the lines between the two blurred and the man who haunted Michael’s dreams grew
Jay’s face, but he hesitated a moment too long and lost the chance to answer.

“Dude, there’s a line for the other bathroom. You gotta come out. Just spray something, all right?” accompanied loud banging
on the door.

Jay rolled his eyes, giving Michael an apologetic shrug. “Sorry ‘bout that,” he whispered. “If I’d have
known…” Jay hollered through the door, “Well, there’s a half bath off the back porch, use it.”

Loud cursing followed the retreating footsteps down the stairs—too late, the mood was broken.

“Let’s get you cleaned up.” Jay turned toward the sink, the water taps screeching in protest at the twist of his hand.

Michael leaned motionless against the wall, letting Jay gently clean him with a damp cloth, put his flaccid cock back into his boxers and redress him. A
brief kiss swiped against his forehead before Jay unlocked and opened the door, peeking out through the crack before pulling it wider.

“The coast is clear,” he said without turning around. “I think you’d better get back to the party.”

What? Over so soon? “But what about you?”

A half smile turned up one side of Jay’s mouth. “Do you think you’re really ready for that?”

Good question. What could Michael possibly do for Jay except maybe a fumbling attempt at a hand job?

“I thought not.” Standing aside and holding the door open, Jay motioned Michael to leave. “I’ll be down in a
minute,” he said, closing the door.

Michael and his guilt stood on the landing, disappointed in him. No matter what else he’d been in life, he’d never been selfish, taking
his own pleasure and leaving someone else wanting. And shouldn’t he have at least said thanks, or let Jay know he wasn’t going to freak
out now over what they’d done? Even now Jay was probably kicking himself, worried that Michael would regret what had happened. A million emotions
fought for dominance, but regret wasn’t among them.

He raised his hand to knock on the door when a relieved-sounding, “Oh, there you are. I was wondering where you’d gotten off
to,” came from behind him. Angie’s firm grip on his arm steered him back to the party, when all he really wanted to do was make things
right with Jay.

Chapter Eight

Jay lay draped across the rickety porch swing, nursing a beer while hanging one bare foot down to rub Shasta’s upturned belly. The back door
eased open, music and laughter invading his sanctuary along with a slim figure silhouetted in the doorway. The door closed, banishing the noise and light
but leaving the intruder. The scent of familiar perfume announced Angie’s presence.

“I figured it was you,” Jay said.

“We need to talk.”

Yeah, he knew that, though he dreaded the conversation. He couldn’t outright lie to her, yet he wouldn’t betray her brother’s
confidence either.

The brief flash from a lighter illuminated the pale white skin and shiny copper hair of the woman he loved as a sister, but who could never be more to him.

The tip of her cigarette glowed brighter and Angie exhaled a swirling cloud of blue-gray fog, barely visible in the glow from the street lamps outside.
“I thought I’d find you here,” she murmured.

Rather than join him on the swing as she normally did, she remained standing near the door where her brother had stood a few hours ago. Neither said a
word, the
thumpa, thumpa
of the music from the living room and the soft protests of the porch swing the only sounds.

“So, are you gonna tell me, or do I have to beat it out of you?” Angie took another hard drag from her cigarette.

I’m not volunteering anything. You wanna know, you gotta ask.
“Tell you what?” Jay took a deep breath, releasing it slowly and counting on music and darkness to hide his guilt.

“Tell me what the hell went on in the kitchen that had Terry running out like a scalded dog.”

“Oh, that,” he replied with casual wave of his hand. “A minor misunderstanding. No harm done.”

In the semi-darkness he caught a brief glimpse of even, white teeth, more grimace than smile. Angie knew her housemates well enough to figure out the rest.
“In other words, Terry put the moves on Michael and was disappointed.”

“Yeah, something like that.”

“Did you take care of it?”

“Was there ever any doubt?”

Angie leaned back against the doorframe, exhaling another mouthful of smoke. After a moment she whispered, “
Gracias
.”

“
De nada
,” Jay replied.

“Why are the blinds drawn?” she asked, abruptly changing the subject. “It makes it so stuffy out here.” She crossed
the floor as she spoke, the ancient floorboards screeching under her feet.

How ironic that Angie dreaded enclosed spaces as much as her brother feared open ones. “Michael was uncomfortable. I wanted to make him feel more
at ease.”

Raising the blinds her with back turned, a slight head nod served as Angie’s acknowledgement. “He’s in a bad way right now
and doesn’t need any more shit.” She turned to face Jay then, slender arms wrapped around her thin body.

“Are you saying you think I’d give him shit?”

She released a breathy sigh. “If I tell you something, do you promise not to repeat it?”

Over the years he’d learned that Angie always spoke her mind with little regard to the consequences. Asking permission wasn’t in
character. “Have I ever given you a reason not to trust me?”

She smiled but it wasn’t happy. “I love my brother dearly but what I have to say could be considered betrayal.” She plopped
down into a wooden rocking chair, facing the swing, her slow rocking at odds with the fast-paced music from the house.

Never for a minute did Jay believe his dear friend capable of betrayal, especially not of the brother she adored. “Just tell me,” he
said, in a voice normally reserved for reassuring upset younger sisters.

“Jay, you know I love you with all my heart but, so help me God, if you breathe a word of this to anybody, they’ll never find your
body.”

“If I ever betray you, my greatest friend, then I deserve for my body to never be found.”

Another pull from the cigarette sent her words out on a cloud of smoke. “Fair enough. Jay, there’s a reason I’ve told you so
much about my brother over the years.”

“Other than sisterly bragging, you mean?” It wasn’t like he hadn’t filled his friend’s ear with tales of
sibling antics.

With a sly smile she replied, “Yeah, other than sisterly bragging.”

“Do tell.”

“I remember back when he was in high school and, before that, in junior high down in Mississippi. I also remember when he was dating Ruth Ann
Dunwoody.”

Jay winced at the name, having heard it many times and knowing exactly who the young woman was—Michael’s high school sweetheart and the
girl his grandmother had wanted him to marry.

Angie continued, “I saw how he was with her, or rather how he wasn’t, and not only her but any other girl he was involved
with.”

“And?” Jay asked, curious even if the image of Michael with a girl made him cringe.

“He never talked about any of them the way he talks about you, or looked at them the way he looks at you.”

That was unexpected. “What are you trying to say, Angie?”

“I’m saying that I believe that my brother might be gay.”

He opened his mouth to defend Michael, but Angie cut him off. “That’s not the only reason. I’ve kinda felt it for a long time
now. Several times I thought he was leading up to a big announcement, and I know for a fact that he snuck some of Mom’s gay romance novels into
his room when he was younger. He’s not nearly as good at hiding things as he thought he was.”

At Jay’s narrowed-eyed scrutiny she splayed her palm in a defensive gesture. “What? I’m his big sister, I’m
supposed
to snoop—it’s in my job description.” Apparently, she chose to ignore his condemning glare. “That
asshole Mom married was such a homophobe that the poor kid didn’t dare say anything.” She gave a snort. “As if I’d
repeat a confidence to that moron.”

Absentmindedly stroking Shasta’s head, Jay hung on to Angie’s words. He knew all about Crawford Shiller from previous stories, appalled
at what she and Michael had suffered at his hands. Having been brought up in a big, loving home where children were considered precious, he
couldn’t imagine having to slink around in an effort to avoid attention. It hadn’t helped Angie’s trust issues in the least,
and having suffered through six more years of such exposure, there was no telling how the jerk had affected her brother.

“What do you want me to say?” he asked. He drained his beer and set the empty bottle on the floor.

Angie dropped her cigarette butt into the empty flower pot that served as an ashtray, then moved so quickly that he heard the groaning of the chains before
he felt her body crowding against him on the swing. Shasta sighed and moved to the far side of the porch, noisily flopping down, surrendering her claim.

“Jay, I need to know something. What were you doing with my brother tonight?” Perfectly arched eyebrows curved high over her eyes as
Angie pinned him with a suspicious glare.

Oh, shit. He should have known this would happen. She was a smart lady and paid attention. It was only a matter of time before she put two and two
together. Only, it looked like she’d reached the wrong conclusion. The problem with trust issues was that they turned on the undeserving on
occasion.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he answered. “I was just talking to him, the same as I did to
about twenty or thirty other people tonight.” If he carefully measured his words, he wouldn’t out Michael. Angie deserved the truth,
but from Michael’s lips. It wasn’t Jay’s news to share no matter how badly he wanted to tell his best friend and receive her
blessing.

“I saw the way you were looking at him and you disappeared together—twice.” Accusation hung heavy in her words. “I
know because I went looking and couldn’t find hide nor hair of either of you. I even checked your room. If I’d found you seducing
him…”

The memory of a throaty moan and emphatic “don’t stop” filled his mind. Nope, definitely not seduction, the blond hunk was
more than willing. If not, as difficult as it would have been, Jay would have simply walked away. But Angie worried about her brother, otherwise he
wouldn’t tolerate such thinly veiled insults to his character.

“Need I remind you who you’re talking to? I’m not Terry, you know.” There was just enough bite to the words to warn
her that she was dangerously close to insulting him.

He carefully kept his expression neutral in the face of her angry glare, waiting for her to reach a logical conclusion on her own. Suddenly she turned
away, admitting, “You’re right. I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that. It’s just that the kid’s
had some rough times and I’m just trying to look out for him. I don’t want him to get hurt.”

“Angie, Michael’s not a kid anymore. Don’t you think he’s old enough to make his own decisions?”

When she looked up all the anger fled just as quickly as it had come, replaced by a deep sadness that aged her before his eyes. For a scant moment Jay
could have sworn Sarah sat so forlornly next to him instead of Angie. He really hated it when she got like this. For four years he’d taken it as
a personal mission to bring her back from the dark place she disappeared to sometimes.

“I wouldn’t willingly hurt anyone… you know that.” If she hadn’t figured him out by now she never would.

“Yeah, I know that,” she finally admitted. “I’ve a confession to make. When I first met you I knew you were a
special person, but I also knew there was no way you’d be more to me than a friend. Since you could never be for me, I thought maybe I could
trust you with my brother.”

“You’d trust me with your brother?”
What the fuck?
“You accuse me of seducing him in one breath and say
you trust me with him the next?”

“Forget what I said earlier, okay? I worry. Well, you know me, so you know that.”

Yes he did, and that’s why he always forgave and tried to help when she let the disappointments of the past interfere with the life she had now.
That’s what friends did.

He draped his arm across the back of the swing and she pulled it around her shoulders. A wordless apology was issued and accepted with that simple gesture.
Life was too short to hold grudges.

Angie leaned back against his arm. “He’s not the same. He was so happy-go-lucky and fun-loving before he left. Now when I look at him,
it’s like he’s someone else entirely.”

“Then get to know the man he is now,” Jay’s replied. “Maybe the person he used to be will come back, maybe he
won’t. But Michael’s your brother and he needs you. Besides, you’ve changed over the years, why wouldn’t
he?” Watching his sisters grow and mature, going from clinging little pests to independent women with minds of their own, had taught Jay a lot
about life and living. Though some of the differences in Michael were probably caused by trauma, a lot were merely the product of growing up.

“Yeah, you’re right,” she finally agreed. “He couldn’t stay a kid forever, I guess.”

“No, Angie, people grow and they change. If you love them you learn to accept the changes or gently guide them back to where they need to
be.”

They sat in comfortable silence for a few moments, the music from the living room notwithstanding. Angie said, “When I first thought he might be
gay it really worried me. Mom has some pretty great gay friends, but they’re all older. I thought all gay men our age were like what I saw in
movies and on television, and how some of the guys at school talk. You know, a different man every night.”